Niveus Bennu
by Oriens Bennu
Summary: Following the death of Sirius Black, Harry Potter has a choice. He can either enjoy the last of his childhood years, or grow into what he was fated to be
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One **

Harry watched a small pearl drop of ink slowly fall until it splashed against the surface of his desk. It was finished after hours and hours of writing, rewriting, and starting all over again. His whole bedroom was littered with the failed attempts, but finally decided not to add this version to the pile. This one was right.

He leaned back and let out a tired yawn, thankful to feel the muscles in his back finally relaxing just enough to take away that throbbing pain he'd been feeling at the bottom of his spine. Slaving over homework had never been as painful as that evening had been.

It was only his first evening at Number Four, and already he felt as if he'd been there a lifetime. Earlier in the day he had said goodbye to his friends and handed himself over to the mercy of his aunt and uncle – both of whom where not at all pleased about the threats they had received. Thankfully though, their fear of the magical world kept them at bay enough to ensure Harry had taken nothing but a short scolding and cold shoulder as punishment.

In light of the new perspective the Dursley's had gained on Harry – most importantly how many dangerous friends he had interested in his well-being – there had been something of a family meeting to discuss what would happen that summer. Harry was more than aware of how much he'd been used in the past, and had driven a very hard bargain. He now was chore-free, and the only condition to this was that he stayed to his room and out of the Dursley's sight, sending his note to the Order of the Phoenix every third day. It was a very good arrangement he believed.

In concern to how he had been used in the past – well, that was what his labour had been focused on for the duration of the evening. It had taken hours, but finally he had managed to complete his letter to a certain Albus Dumbledore. It was funny, he had come to realize, how it was always the closest people to you that could hurt you worst. Dumbledore had lied and manipulated him for years, probably never feeling guilt for exploiting Harry's trust. Sirius had hurt Harry in a completely different way, but that wasn't really his fault.

Sirius was something he would have to deal with later. He knew he would have to mourn, but all that he could think of, probably because of the family meeting earlier, was Dumbledore's manipulation of him. Sirius was pushed aside to be dealt with later – first Harry needed to make it clear where he stood.

He looked down at the letter in front of him and let out a long, hopefully calm breath. It came out slightly shaky though, and he knew that deep inside he was all but scared of actually having Dumbledore read his work. The anger and pain came so easily when he was in the mood, remembering the sleepless nights and how so many outcomes could have changed if Dumbledore had just told him a few sentences. Reading his words though when finished made him realize that Dumbledore probably wasn't the best man to antagonise. It would be very unwise of him to get such a powerful man angry at him.

It was with a quick glance over the parchment that Harry found that he couldn't really care. Behind the brief spells of anger, pain, and depression, he was beginning to find himself travelling more and more into a void of emotion where he just didn't seem to feel at all. It was a sense of detachment that made him not care for the consequences, or even others feelings. He just felt…tired. Tired of caring.

With a small glance at a sleeping Hedwig he tried to contemplate once more the problems that would most likely arise from the letter, and more than likely the lack of answers as well. Dumbledore at his best was famous for his riddles and vague answers. When Harry felt on good terms with him he never gained a truly satisfactory answer – he knew the chances of him getting one with the present state of their relationship were very slim.

It only took one more glance at his school trunk to make him decide. The lid was open, and just in view was the photo album Hagrid had given him in his first year. It was one of his most treasured possessions, and reminded him strongly of a past that he knew could have been so different had Dumbledore just told him the Prophecy. He could have prepared, trained – he could have been ready for what he had faced. He could have understood Voldemort was tricking him the previous year and prevented the death of Sirius all together.

No; Sirius wasn't a good topic to breach at the moment. That would be done later – now was the time for action. He would prepare, he would train; only not under the influence of that man he had grown to trust, just to find that trust thrown in his face. He now had both understanding and a purpose – the war that was going to come was his war, and he would fight it.

He finally laid his quill to rest on the desk, glancing briefly at the drops of ink that stained the worn wooden surface before shrugging and turning his gaze back to the letter. One more check, and then he would send it. He wouldn't keep his feelings to himself when something so important was at hand.

_Albus Dumbledore, _

_ I trust Hedwig not to be intercepted by any means. She is a good, strong, and loyal owl, and knows my mail is for no one but the proper receiver. If you have a problem with this, please take it upon yourself to find a better means of communication. _

A biting opening that immediately gave his mood, and hinted at how Harry felt at the breach of his trust at the hands of Dumbledore. If he thought he had everything planned and plotted like a game of chess then let him think that. It might be interesting to see how he responded to the idea of other means of communication – probably would suddenly agree that owl post was safe enough to save himself the work, or have someone else see to it.

_ In concern to your office, I apologise for the damage done to it, and will readily pay for any damages. _

Harry had made sure not to give any hint of regret for doing the actual damage – he felt none at all. He did hope though that nothing really important had been destroyed; the objects had seemed rather personal to Dumbledore, and he wouldn't wish the destruction of personal items on anyone. He couldn't dream how he would feel if someone damaged his father's invisibility cloak.

_ In concern to my attitude towards the end of the school year, I apologise to whoever was forced to face it, but by no means for it. I feel it was perfectly justified, and believe many would agree with me on that point. _

Keep it formal, sharp, and slightly cold. He didn't want to give Dumbledore the satisfaction of thinking he had a weak spot that could be exploited.

_ I am not writing this letter for just apologies as you have probably already guessed. This letter is being written to set the line straight. _

To the point; that was good. Harry wasn't really great at showing a formal side or sounding calm and collected. He felt he was getting it right this time though.

_ Concerning the information I learnt towards the end of the school year, I believe I have more than enough right to demand answers and truths about the current situation. I can be a weapon if needs be, but I want to know what I am striking beforehand. _

_ Understanding is something you have denied me far too long. I want the answers to my questions to the greatest extent you can give them. I want to know about my past and my future. I want to know those things you are hiding from me; those things that you have been hiding from me for all these years. _

_ Not telling me the Prophecy, or even about its existence has already cost more than one life. I can only wonder what else you are not telling me, and how many other lives will be claimed because of you not telling me. _

_ I want to know what Voldemort is doing, planning, and even eating. I want to be able to understand my enemy as well as his right-hand man does. _

_ I want to know what protection my friends are getting, and what they are not. Now that I understand the need for me to be kept alive, I'm saying quite clearly that no protection will help me if anything happens to my friends. I have faced it before, and I have escaped it; they haven't. Give them the protection. _

_ I am sure that you will be able to understand the demands I have for the immediate future. I can abide by your rules within reason if you can abide by mine. _

_Harry Potter _

He wondered for a moment what Dumbledore's reaction to the letter would be. Reading it again gave him a cold sensation in the pit of his stomach; one he wasn't familiar with and one he wasn't keen on. The letter got his points across more than clearly though, and that was what was important.

A soft hoot from his right told him it was time to stop thinking, and time to start acting. He carefully folded his finished piece of work and beckoned to Hedwig, allowing himself a small smile as she regally extended her leg to carry the message. He tied it on with care and gently stroked her for a long moment.

"This is for Dumbledore girl – it needs to get there quickly, and I know you won't let anyone else even glimpse it." Hedwig gave him a gentle, reassuring peck before shuffling over to the edge of the desk and peering at the side of the room. Harry followed her gaze and sighed when he realized he hadn't opened the window yet. He forced himself from the chair and moved over.

"Don't stay away too long." He said quietly as Hedwig took flight. It was dark in the streets below, and he couldn't help but think of the threats that awaited him there.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two **

Harry gazed at the face before him; a boy just on the borders of becoming a man. The contours of his face were becoming more defined, though he guessed he would never lose that softness to the curves of his face that gave him such a young look. Small measures of facial hair were beginning to grow, dark and looking rather intimidating. His appearance was almost gruff, and one Harry wouldn't want to come across at night in a dark alley.

The body was short, obviously shorter than most males his age. It was skinny, and looked frail as well, but he knew that beyond the clothes there was little but developing muscles. Running for years and being faced with unfathomable tasks accounted for that. Probably helped he was into sport as well.

Apart from his face, Harry couldn't find the person in front of him very intimidating at all, especially in the clothes he was wearing. He looked like a boy who hadn't a dime to his name – not one that had piles of gold waiting for him in a Gringotts Vault. He looked scruffy and gruff, the perfect part of a tramp trying to appear civilized. He wasn't at all intimidating.

Harry looked his mirror image carefully up and down. Where he lacked intimidation, he felt he made up more than enough with a sense of mystery. His eyes always drew his gaze above everything else, and more than once had he found himself caught up in them. He wasn't obsessed with his looks in any manner, but there was something about his eyes that always made him stop and just stare.

Perhaps it was because they had belonged to his mother – that would make them the only thing he had to really remember her by. Sure, he had pictures, but they couldn't give him the sense of familiarity his father's invisibility cloak could. He'd been told on many an occasion that he looked almost identical to his father; maybe that was why. Out of all similarities he had to his father, his mother's eyes were unique. They were unique, and so in a way so much more powerful.

Every time he actually looked at his reflection with time to actually thing, he had to wonder if his mother ever looked at her eyes in the mirror and saw the same green eyes staring back. Those green eyes that showed emotion so clearly he grimaced at the thought of how easily he could be read through them. He had to wonder if his mothers eyes had ever been so very dull at a time, as his were now. The emerald green was no longer bright and dancing, as he had seen in happier times, but clouded and sad, with sharp fragments that told the horrible truth of what his life was becoming.

Even being so clearly a mirror to his feelings; his eyes portrayed mystery. They were beginning to grow old, and beginning to show that harsh life wisdom that Dumbledore sometimes showed. Not that he had come across that wisdom in the ways that Harry had done – his experience was through an odd hundred and a half years – Harry's was from sixteen years of hell.

He glanced up to his scar and scowled automatically. With each year that passed he was beginning to dislike the lightening bolt more and more. There had been a time when he was younger that he actually liked the reminder of his parents, and something that made him so unique and _special_, but that time was no more. The scar only caused trouble.

His scar told a story just by being there on his forehead. More mystery. How had he survived the killing curse? How did he keep escaping Voldemort? How…

To the public of the wizarding world, he could only imagine he was one of the more tasty appetisers for their curiosity. He had broken records more times than he could care to count; was the source for most happenings in their world at the moment. He was like a focus of it all, and no one knew him at all really.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. It was rather silly really; he was trying to find a way to make it at least _look_ like he was ready for his next challenge. You couldn't really expect a boy who looked like he did to be the figurehead the wizarding world wanted and needed. He hated his fame, and he hated even thinking about changing who he truly was for anyone or anything, but he knew it was necessary. An example had to be set, and he was one of the few that could set it well.

So, he had decided upon mystery. He didn't really enjoy the hard, cold look that his potions professor was so very adept at. Neither did he like the strict, strong foundations that his Head of House was so very at showing. Mystery was his best bet.

He felt rather sick to realize that he was in a way aiming for something like Dumbledore. No one really knew the old man, or his limits or the amounts of secrets he held in his head. No one knew anything beyond he was a figurehead and a very powerful man, and that gave them hope. Harry knew though that Dumbledore was getting old, and weak, and making mistakes. People were turning to him in matters concerning Voldemort more and more, and he would let them. He would _never_ manipulate them. He knew better than to think he could play God, and he was appalled that Dumbledore didn't.

He looked back to his eyes and decided with a small nod he would accent what mystery he could. Detachment was the key, from all those but the select few who were closest to him. Keep quiet and in a corner; appear as insignificant as possible, and then, when the time comes, give a demonstration of power. Dumbledore's used the façade of an old bubbling man with a fondness for sweets – harmless really. That's what made him appear so great when he showed his true side.

Harry's eyes had always been intense, whether they were shining or as dull as they were at the moment. In the few instances Harry had met someone eye to eye, only the most powerful hadn't broken away first. Even Malfoy, despite his hate for Harry and insatiable pride, had been unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Despite how reluctant, he always looked away. It was something Harry would have to take advantage of.

In truth he hated thinking along the lines he was doing. It made everyone seem like pawns he was planning to manipulate through his changes, and he kept being reminded more and more of Dumbledore. He did _not_ want to turn into that man.

A small rush of anger rose in him, and his gaze was suddenly drawn to his eyes as he saw a small swell of colour in them for a moment. Red. That meant Voldemort.

Harry wasn't particularly bothered, in all truth. He had felt Voldemort probing his mind just after he awoke, and it had only been a small discomfort, swatted away with a fly. He just couldn't be bothered caring, or even putting an effort into being worried. The only thing he was directing his efforts into was planning for the future. Voldemort was a hassle he could do without for a while. If Harry dared to say it, he almost felt that at that moment Voldemort was insignificant.

He was interested to see though that as the red dissipated his eyes turned a disturbing yellow for the split second before the normal green came back. He remembered from his muggle primary school that red and green made yellow, but he wasn't dealing with lights. He peered closer, and all but jumped backwards as he saw his eyes flicker yellow once more for a few seconds.

Now _that_ was interesting. He carefully leaned closer until all he could see was his eye. He examined it to a long minute before wondering if it had simply been the light that had made it appear so. Almost as soon as he considered the point, he saw the yellow show again, and this time stay just a bit longer, allowing him to see perfectly well it wasn't a trick of the light.

He blinked and his eyes turned back to the normal green. Watching himself closely, he blinked once more, and there they were again – yellow. He felt an eyebrow rise, and began to blink in and out of colours in total bafflement. Why could his eyes suddenly go _yellow_?

He chewed on his lip for a minute before remembering that with paints, red and green normally made some sort of brown. It was with coloured lights they made yellow so it _had_ to be something to do with…

He stared at his reflection as his eyes soaked into a quite normal brown colour. He leaned forward and quickly examined it, trying to make sure he wasn't seeing things, and noted that when he blinked he turned back to green. He wondered what happened to the yellow, and then it was back. Catching on, he concentrated on the brown again, and then sure enough it appear once his eyelid lifted once more.

Grinning to himself at his new found revelation, he concentrated on black, but was disappointed to see nothing at all happen. He frowned and thought back to brown, seeing the emerald disappear almost immediately. From the brown he willed for black again but only succeeded on making the shade of brown slightly darker.

A soft rustle of movement from the window startled him backwards. He quickly returned his eyes to the normal colour, praying that they would stay that way, and turned, more than surprised at the sight that greeted him.

"Good morning Fawkes." He received a small trill in response, but it appeared Fawkes was in rather a hurry judging by the promptness he skipped pleasantries with and held out a leg. Harry immediately noticed the slip of parchment there and his face darkened ever so slightly. That was much too thin for a proper response.

An indignant sound brought him back to his senses and he quickly apologised to Fawkes, relieving him of his burden.

"Sorry Fawkes. Would you like something to drink?" Fawkes gave a soft sound he couldn't quite identify before rubbing his head against him. Harry couldn't prevent his smile and quite happily stroked the phoenix before he suddenly took to the air and disappeared with a small cry and flash of fire. Harry stared after him.

"Well!" He huffed, upset that Fawkes had been so abrupt with him. He always seemed to have some time for him on previous occasions. He hoped it wasn't the state of his present relationship with his master that made him act so.

He looked down at the slim sheet of parchment in his hand in disgust, having half a mind to burn it, given he could find a lighter somewhere. It was barely more than a note, he knew, and opened it with very little expectations.

_This letter will take you to my office at exactly _ _12pm_

AD

Harry scowled, but it was more out of nerves than pure annoyance. The whole reason he hadn't requested an actual meeting was because Dumbledore had a way of making everyone do what he wanted whenever he spoke to them face to face. Harry was afraid he'd lose track of what he wanted to get across.

With a sigh he decided at least it wasn't a flat out refusal. All Harry had to do was keep his head and nerve and everything should be alright. That was all. He had just less than two hours to work on that, what was hard about that? He chucked the letter onto his bed and turned back to the mirror deciding he wanted to make his eyes look a lot less intimidated.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

A little over a week later, Harry watched with narrowed eyes as Albus Dumbledore played the wise, kind, and harmless old man. From his seat it the darkest corner of the Leaky Cauldron, it was easy to see how everyone seemed to rely on the act the headmaster was putting on. Everyone needed that reassurance that there was still innocence in even the foremost figurehead in the up-and-coming war, and Dumbledore knew it well. It was just another manipulation, only on a much grander scale than what went on at Hogwarts.

For the first time in his life, Harry found that the Butterbeer in front of him had a bitter taste. He hadn't expected Dumbledore to be in the Alley, and it had set him back in his plans quite a bit. He definitely wasn't his favourite person at the moment.

The meeting the previous week had been nothing but a disappointment. Harry had arrived, only to be immediately 'put in his place' in the calm, understanding manner Dumbledore had turned on. After his place had been found, he'd then had all of his complaints, ideas, and requests suppressed completely.

It wasn't as if he just sat back and let it happen either. He had hoped that Dumbledore might have actually seen some sense and recognized the attempt he was making at allowing him to regain some of Harry's trust, but no…

They had argued back and forth for hours. Harry knew without a doubt that his arguments had been all but foolproof for the most part, and Dumbledore had had to either completely disregard them, or make something up – a twisted truth – to try and counter them. He had seen the uneasiness that the headmaster had carried throughout the meeting, and knew without a doubt that he had pushed more than one button in the old man. Dumbledore had known he was right, but stubbornly had him leaving the meeting with only more questions than he had gone in with.

He was in a rather tied situation considering how he felt about the meeting. While he hadn't learnt anything other than the fact Dumbledore wasn't going to tell his pawn a thing and just keep playing with him, he had also found something afterwards that made it all seem very trivial.

It had taken hours, but Harry's temper wasn't easy to control at the best of times. When he'd finally had enough, he had stormed from Dumbledore's office without a thought as to where he was going, or how storming out was going to get him back to Privet Drive . He hadn't really cared in all truth.

It hadn't taken long for his fuming brain to realize he had gotten himself lost in the maze of Hogwarts. Even being a much more adventurous student than most there for five years, he seemed to have stumbled upon a section of the castle that no one had entered for years if the dust was testament to anything. He'd found himself wandering corridors so quietly it was as if he was walking through a graveyard. There was just that sense of…age that made him very hesitant to break the silence, or lift the dust that he came across.

It had been after almost half an hour of wandering that Harry had finally given up, and had decided to resort to shouting for help. Not using magic during the holidays was a great pain, and Harry had been so worried about Fudge taking advantage of underage magic that he hadn't even dared cast 'Point-Me'. Luckily, it was as he tethered on the edge of asking for help that it did come, in a manner.

There was one thing about Hogwarts many didn't know, and fewer actually appreciated. While the castle had always been recognized as a very magical building, what most failed to see was that Hogwarts was actually far beyond just a building. It was a magical force with a personality in the simplest of terms. It had been Hogwarts that had come to his aid.

Harry had suddenly found himself in front of a portrait depicting a Hogwarts greatly unlike the one he was familiar with. He had been captivated by the simple aura of power that was shown. The castle had obviously been in its much younger years, and seemed to shine as proof. The Quidditch Pitch had been replaced with what looked like stables, and the Forbidden Forest looked nothing like it did today – it actually looked warm and welcoming. The castle itself seemed much, much bigger, and had many more towers and turrets than he was used to. In fact, even when appreciating the splendour of a castle made to uphold the Light, he realized that it was a castle built with the full intention of being a stronghold – a place where a fight could be fought, and won.

He had no idea how long he had spent staring at the painting. It was an unusual approach for him, to be caught by something as simple as a picture, but he had just felt that there were more truths in that one picture than anything he had learnt about Hogwarts in all of his years there. He had been right, in a way.

He still didn't know what made him say it, but as his mind finally withdrew from the picture, he had said 'Hail Hogwarts', and watched as the portrait swung open much like it did for the Gryffindor Common Room. He had wondered at that point if he was dreaming – a point that gained great strength when he entered the room beyond.

The Common Room he seemed to enter was rather bare, while still holding a comfortable atmosphere to it. A massive fire had already been warming the room, and the furniture had told clearly of long, restful nights of relaxation. There had been a couch in front of the fire, and then behind that four chairs facing each other, two on each side, only separated by a low table in between them. Plain and simple, but comfortable, Harry had decided.

The most remarkable thing though that he had found was that beyond the Common Room there had been four doors, each of which had an animal carved into it. While he hadn't approached the doors at all, it was more than obvious just where Harry had stumbled.

It was after that realization that Harry had heard the voices – almost as if it was a trigger. It had taken a while, but he had eventually found that there was a portrait above the fireplace – one covered in distraction charms. Harry hadn't known whether he was more surprised by who it held, or by the fact he had actually managed to break through the charms using just his head.

His discovery was what had had him staying in that room for hours until the very late evening, whereupon he used the fire to Floo back to Mrs. Figg house. It had been what had had him receiving a lecture from Mrs. Figg, Moody, and Shacklebolt.

Harry had spent the day pouring out his life to the Hogwarts Founders.

It had been…weird, at least at first anyway. Harry hadn't known whether to be humble, awed, or downright pessimistic. The fact that he had stumbled across all _four_ of the Founders was something that helped, he supposed. Their interaction had put him slightly at ease.

He was willing to bet that no one in the wizarding world would expect that Rowena and Godric where constantly at each others throats, while Salazar was almost a mediator between the two, though he had his own fair share of 'brotherly' arguments with Godric. Helga was the neutral motherly one that made sure everyone made up…Harry hadn't seen any group of people that reminded him so much as a group of siblings – even the Weasleys. It gave them a much more…human appearance, and he was able to speak with them easier.

To his surprise, they actually knew a very great deal of his story, and even more about what went on around Hogwarts. As they could move between portraits, they spent most of their time moving around and listening in on conversations, trying to do this and that to help where they could. Harry was very surprised to learn that their paintings retained some of their magic, and while they weren't up to doing anything remotely awe-inspiring, they could do enough to make a difference here and there. Then there was the case of Hogwarts.

Hogwarts had been explained in some depth to Harry. Hogwarts wasn't actually its name – that was the name of the school – but it answered to that because that was what it was known as. Even the Founders weren't aware of its real name.

When they had gone about building Hogwarts, they had built it specifically on the land above a very powerful, very mysterious source of power that no one really understood. It had taken a great deal of work, but one of the reasons Hogwarts's wards were so powerful was that the Founders had managed to tie some of the magic they had used to create the building into the very weakest parts of this power source. The result was more than they had ever dreamed of.

Apparently, they had tapped into something that was all but sentient. The force pretty much took Hogwarts under its wing, and added it to its source, making it far beyond what it was in modern times. The force now known as Hogwarts had remained rather dormant for the past thousand years since the demise of the Founders.

The Founders had obviously had a purpose for telling Harry such secrets, because they had a very great worth. If one had the knowledge that Hogwarts was more than just what it seemed, they could 'talk' to it in a way. Hogwarts had answered his silent plea for help with the Founders coercing. Now that he understood that Hogwarts was something so much more beyond just stone walls, he could directly ask Hogwarts for help, or help Hogwarts. The Founders had demonstrated what they had meant by having Hogwarts conjure up a door in the middle of the room that led straight to the Entrance Hall, even though they were deep within the bowels of the castle.

After he had begun to appreciate what they meant when they spoke about the power of Hogwarts, they explained to him how they had Hogwarts do things here and there that helped out with the modern world. They, for example, were to thank for the lack of enchantments upon the window of Sirius's prison cell when he had been held in Hogwarts during his third year. Apparently the actual power of Hogwarts extended beyond the castle itself, and so they had been aware of what transpired in the Shrieking Shack.

So, most of Harry's story was nothing more than what they already knew from his own point of view. He had talked, and talked, and talked some more and he had to admit it helped him cool off a very great deal. Some things he had to say amused the Founders, others made them very obviously angry and annoyed. Harry had been rather alarmed at how they had reacted to his tale of Dumbledore – apparently they felt it a personal insult of a sort that Dumbledore had treated him as such. Even Salazar, the most composed of them all, blazed with anger for a brief moment.

Harry really hadn't noticed how much time had passed until he was told. He had been startled, and worried about the consequences of his running off, and surprised Dumbledore hadn't managed to find him. That had been answered pretty easily – Hogwarts was hiding him, and not even the headmaster would be able to find him with all the gadgets in the world when Hogwarts was working against him.

Still, Harry hadn't liked the idea of getting into trouble just for having a breather to himself, even if he had the very good excuse of stumbling upon the find of a thousand years as an excuse for the extra time taken. It was upon seeing both his discomfort and annoyance at this that the Founders began to tell him of a plot they had obviously had cooking for him for a while. Harry had been very disturbed at first, and had actually very nearly stormed from the room once more, but after hours of refining details and plotting, he finally had to coincide that the Founders knew much better than he did. All he knew was that it made a very great deal of sense.

So was the reason that he was in the darkest corner of the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Albus Dumbledore to leave so he could get down to the plan he and the Founders had decided on. He wasn't worried about being recognized – his past week hadn't passed idly.

One of the things that had served as almost a prompt to agree to the plan was the fact that the Founders were responsible of the monitoring network placed upon underage witches and wizards, as well as the charms that were used to read what spells were used in a room. Harry hadn't been aware that a skilled wizard could actually recall what spell had been cast by any means other than Prior Incantato, and had been disturbed to learn that it was possible to recall spells in much more depth, even if that method couldn't identify the caster.

The Founders had quite calmly told him how to completely wipe himself from the monitoring network, while still appearing in the records as not having cast any magic at all. That had almost secured his agreement straight away, and the matter had been all but agreed upon when he was presented with Salazar's wand. Apparently Salazar in his time was a little wary of the methods they had created to recall spells, and so had taken it upon himself to charm his wand so that if every time a spell was cast, the magical signature that was given was simply that of accident sparks. Giving Harry such a wand and opportunity meant that he could both do magic outside of school, and that it was absolutely impossible to trace any magic that might have gone astray thanks to the fact Salazar had been dead for the past thousand years and wasn't on record.

So, Harry hadn't wasted his week at all. After receiving a good number of tips from the Founders, a few books, and the specifics of the plan, Harry had been working very hard, and the benefits were plain to see. When Albus Dumbledore glanced briefly at the dark corner of the Leaky Cauldron, he saw a gruff man with dark brown eyes and murky brown hair that did absolutely nothing for his complexion. Of course, Harry had to be careful to make sure his scar remained covered, but even the famed Albus Dumbledore looked away after that brief moment, decided he was just a harmless passer-by who preferred to be left alone.

Harry drained his Butterbeer as Dumbledore finally disappeared through the door to Muggle London and stretched ever so slightly, yawning. He hadn't dared go out into the Alley while the headmaster was present, so he'd been stuck in the pub for a good two hours – not something he would do out of choice. He fingered Salazar's wand for a moment before depositing a galleon on the table and moving silently out of the Leaky Cauldron.

After making sure he was alone, it took only a few seconds to turn his eyes into a pale blue, and his hair into a long, dirty blond mass. He wriggled his nose ever so slightly, and felt it become just slightly longer, and more crooked. After conjuring a mirror and making sure his scar was effectively covered, he quickly changed into some dark purple robes and vanished the ones he had been wearing. One of the first rules the Founders had lectured him on – don't make it easy to be traced. Dumbledore had seen him in that corner, and was the kind of man to remember something like that. Now, it would just seem that that mysterious man in the corner disappeared into thin air the moment he stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron.

After stepping through into Diagon Alley, Harry moved casually up the street as if he belonged there, and no one gave him a second glance. Salazar's wand was in his hand, in his pocket, and ready to use at a moments notice if anything should go wrong. Harry doubted it very much though – he was rather pride at his ability to change his hair, eyes, and nose to everything he had attempted to in the past week. He strongly doubted anyone would even think him anyone remotely like Harry Potter.

He was glad to find himself correct in his assumption that no one would even give him a second glance. To the wizarding world he was just another wizard, passing through without doing any harm, and not looked dangerous in the slightest. In fact, had he known it, moments after a person glanced at him, the memory of him seemed to slip from their minds as if by magic.

Harry reached Gringotts with absolutely no problem at all. It only took a quick glance around to tell that he was alone once more as he moved behind a pillar, and he quickly put his features back to how they were supposed to be, only making his eyes just a bit harder for the goblins. When he was Harry Potter properly again, he charmed his robes a greyish black and quickly moved into the Bank, not wanting to be seen just yet.

Thankfully, Gringotts appeared to be all but empty. The only customers were talking to the goblins, and he didn't receive a glance from any corner. Happy that he wouldn't have to avoid discovery so early on, he moved to the nearest counter.

"I would like to speak with the Head Goblin in a private room please." The goblin glanced up, lingering on his scar for a moment, before nodding and disappearing behind his desk. Harry was careful to keep his back to the rest of the bank and not give any indication of who he really was. He really didn't want that to happen until after he was finished with his business.

It took almost five minutes, but since no one even whispered his name, Harry didn't mind very much. When his attendant came back, and led him quickly behind the desk and through a small maze of rooms, he was actually glad he had the time to steel himself. He had an idea he was going to meet more than a few obstacles, and so the reason he had made his eyes that much colder and sharper.

"In there, Mr. Potter. Mr. Gralin is expecting you." He nodded once to the small creature, and made a show of not hesitating in the slightest while heading through the large double doors in front of him. He saw his goblin guides eyes widen in surprise, and almost fear, and knew the effect had been made.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! What a pleasure…" He glanced at what appeared to him almost a twin of the goblin he had just been led by, take the fact this one was much more wrinkled. Presumably Mr. Gralin was sat behind a desk far too big for him and looking sickeningly happy to see him. Salazar's advice came back to him in an instant.

_If you need something done, make them fear not doing it_

"I'm not here for pleasantries Mr. Gralin. I'm here for business, and I don't have the time, nor do I want to waste the time, on anything _but_ my business." Mr. Gralin looked extremely taken aback by the sharpness to his voice, and Harry was happy to see that he looked like he had definitely been put in his place. He understood in a way why Snape always used such an attitude at school – it was the most affective way to deal with business.

"Of course Mr. Potter; my apologies. Please take a seat and tell me your problems." Harry took the seat without pause, and glanced slowly around the room, taking in the goblin scribe in the corner with a small mental tick. He also noticed to his amusement a button on the desk that looked like an alarm. Obviously Mr. Gralin feared for his physical wellbeing.

"Most of my problems are of no concern to you at all. I am not here to talk about my problems, if anything I am here to make problems." He nearly allowed himself a small smile at the expression on the goblins face before remembering it would spoil his image.

"How so, Mr. Potter?" He sounded nervous, Harry thought.

"I have recently been made aware through friends that I have a number of vaults here that I have not been made aware of. I am going to be speaking to you on those, as well as creating a will that I expect Gringotts to pertain to by the last detail. I will have _very _powerful friends _very_ annoyed if you try and cross me, Mr. Gralin; let's make that clear this instant." He heard the goblin swallow. Yes, he definitely saw why Snape favoured this tactic. His conclusion about the image of a person was more than correct, he was finding.

"Gringotts does not normally deal in matters beyond the grave Mr. Potter, but in your case we can make an exception if you do not wish to deal with the normal wizarding conventions. Our service to our customers is of the most loyal nature." Harry didn't blink.

"I hope for your sake it is. Now, why have I not been informed of any vaults beyond the one I have been using for the past few years?" Godric had told him very firmly that he had a number of vaults that he was aware of, and that was from a thousand years ago. Harry had been rather amazed and annoyed to find that the Potter line was much older than he had been led to believe, and much richer.

"Ah. Gringotts was instructed by your wizarding guardian that details of accounts other than the trust fund created for you by James Potter were to be withheld till such a time that we were contacted by the guardian, or you came of age – 17." Harry narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, making sure that the goblin could see how annoyed he was.

"And my wizarding guardian is?" He already had a very good idea and more than a few other ideas how to deal with the matter thanks to the Founders. They were nothing but thorough.

"Albus Dumbledore was appointed your wizarding guardian upon the deaths of your parents, and the arrest of Sirius Black." Harry needed to have words with that man…well, have words later.

"Albus Dumbledore has little right in keeping any of my heritages from me. I wish to have full details of all of my accounts and their holdings immediately." That was a definite no-no apparently. Mr. Gralin was beginning to look very uncomfortable.

"I am afraid, Mr. Potter, that without direct consent from Albus Dumbledore, you will not be liable to receive those details until…"

"I will have those details before I leave this bank today Mr. Gralin."

"Mr. Potter, we simply cannot bypass wizarding jurisdiction on such…"

"You cannot, but I may. I have no confidence in either the Ministry of Magic at present, or my wizarding guardian Albus Dumbledore. By Right of Merlin and my heritages, I may formally denounce both, or bypass any such ruling by either in such a case we are at war, and I am in both my right mind, and they are questionable to being in their own. Correct?" Mr. Gralin swallowed very nervously.

"It is a very dangerous thing, Mr. Potter, to accuse both the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore of being incompetent in terms of your own wellbeing." Harry inclined his head very slightly.

"I am aware. I wish for full control over every financial holding that you are aware of. If I find you keep something from me Mr. Gralin, I am sure you are more than aware the problems I can cause for Gringotts." Harry was playing into an ocean of problems here himself – he didn't know what the Right of Merlin was, or his heritages, or even the problems he could cause from Gringotts – this was all the Founders coaching. Thankfully, the goblin seemed to understand.

"Of course we are aware of your status in concerns to Gringotts. We have little problem with dealing with any of your needs, but must abide by laws. If you wish to take such a measure, then we must have proof…"

"You are aware; I am sure, that during my fourth term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry I was kidnapped under the nose of Albus Dumbledore and nearly met my death at the hands of Lord Voldemort?" Mr. Gralin nodded ever so slightly, looking as pale as a goblin could possibly look.

"Yes, that is documented." Harry nodded a bit more.

"You will also be aware that the Ministry of Magic attempted to both arrest, and expel me last year for protected both myself, and my cousin against Dementors. While not documented, you may also be interested to learn that those Dementor were sent by Dolores Umbridge – employed at the time by our Minister, who also was responsible for my near death and torture at her own hands during the previous school year."

"That is not documented…"

"I am aware of that. The fact though that the Dementors are under Ministry jurisdiction though is more than enough grounds my vote concerning their incompetence. Do you have any problems with those claims?" Harry saw to his satisfaction that Mr. Gralin was obviously working against his own will.

"Those are justified cases, documented and supporting the Right of Merlin." Harry smiled coolly.

"Good. Now, I know that you will need the documentation for what we are going to discuss, so I would suggest that you go about gathering it now so that we do not have to be interrupted. I wish to take actions with _all_ of my accounts and holdings, and want to document the Act of the Right of Merlin, as well as my will. I trust that you will not contact anyone on this, and keep it a matter of the topmost security now that the Right of Merlin has been agreed to?" Mr. Gralin was muttering darkly to his scribe but nodded.

"Of course Mr. Potter. We will have the necessary items in moments." Harry watched as the scribe quickly left the room, and sat back ever so slightly. He really hoped that this would work out to plan. The Founders, as thorough as they were, left out the small fact that Harry had little clue what he was talking about.

He glanced at the scribes table, and noticed the quill still poised to write. He gave a small cough, and sure enough, it recorded it. He nodded to himself and glanced back up at Mr. Gralin who looked very wary of him now.

"In terms of Gringotts, Mr. Gralin?" He hoped that his question would act like he was concerned about whatever it was he held over Gringotts, not that he actually wanted to know what the heck he was on about.

"Your land is being respected by our treaty Mr. Potter, and Gringotts has seen to it that all of our branches on said land are within the terms of the agreement." He nodded slowly, eyeing him to make a show of it. Interesting – somehow he owned the land that Gringotts worked upon? He wondered how that had come about.

He didn't have time to ponder, because a moment later a small army of goblins came in carrying stacks and stack of paper. Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement before quickly changing it to one of impatience. It wouldn't do to blow his cover.

It took a little over two minutes for the goblins to finish filling the room with the paperwork, and then the small army spread around, poised over different papers. Harry glanced up at Mr. Gralin who was quickly reading over a piece of parchment in front of him. A moment later he poised himself in such a manner as the rest of the goblins. Harry smiled just a bit.

"Good. This will not take as long as you may expect, as it is all going to be relatively simple. Firstly, I want the Right of Merlin Act documented. Please quote. 'I hereby formally denounce any ties over my rights, and take the responsibility as my own, to live and dictate my own interests. In time of approaching war, I provide proof to my actions, and invoke the Right of Merlin. May the date and time be recorded, and my name as Harry James Potter complete the Act'." He took a shallow swallow, thankful that he had remembered the statement properly. The goblins seemed to think nothing amiss, and Gralin was busy copying what he had said down. A moment later he looked up and nodded.

"The Act is passed, Mr. Potter. You now have full control over all of your rights, and financial holdings." He nodded once. He was very glad he wasn't going to have to deal with the daunting affair of dealing with the whiplash that the Act was going to cause.

"Good. Now, my will is to be very simple. I am naming a full heir, and as such, in a case of my death, that heir will receive _everything_ from my largest holding, to my personal toothbrush. No person may claim for anything at all – everything goes to him. I am hereby denying rights of any kind to my holdings from any branch of relationship – be it by blood, love, or right. My heir will receive _every last thing_, understood?" He was aware that the entire room was staring at him as if he was mad.

"Mr. Potter, are you quite alright? Your holdings are to such an extent…"

"_Everything_." Harry said sharply. Mr. Gralin flinched but nodded once.

"Very well Mr. Potter. It is within our capabilities to do such an action, if you so wish it. We have you word documented that you do not wish for any to be able to claim for anything resulting in your death." Harry nodded.

"Very good. No one will be allowed to claim, not even the Ministry, Wizengamot, or Albus Dumbledore. I also wish that in the event of my death, all of my personal belongings – and I do mean all – to be placed in a new vault for my heir. You have full rights by law to do anything necessary other than maim or kill to retrieve any items belonging to me personally that is not in that vault. I believe you have methods of learning what belongings are mine, and which are not?" Mr. Gralin nodded, looking a bit shaky.

"Yes, Mr. Potter." Harry glanced at the goblins around the room. They were scribbling fiercely into their pieces of parchment.

"I expect that my heir finds everything in that vault Mr. Gralin, he will know if he does not."

"Of course, Mr. Potter." Harry let out a small breath and wracked his mind for what else the Founders had told him to do.

"I want it clear that I close any other rights to any branch of my entire holdings to all other than my heir. If those holding are being used by another, then that will stay as it is at the moment, but my heir is to be informed of such cases. All dormant holdings are completely closed off, understood?"

"Mr. Potter, the amount of power you are investing in this one man…"

"Is that understood?" He asked, tone so deadly it made he himself shiver.

"Yes, Mr. Potter." Mr. Gralin all but squeaked. Harry eyed him for a long moment, and then looked around the room once more before sitting forwards.

"Good. My heir will not be named on paper. You will identify him by holding the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and this item." He pulled a small necklace from his robes and dangled it in front of him, seeing the room scrutinizing it. He wasn't sure of what it was exactly, other than the Founders had given it to him along with Salazar's wand. It was rather plain, he thought – a gold stone with a tiny imprint that he couldn't make out, but apparently to the goblins it was much more.

"The heir will be identified by carrying the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, and the Amulet of Helga Hufflepuff, bearing the Hogwarts Crest?" Harry nodded once – that sounded right. There were more scribbles.

"Are you sure it is wise to identify a person by two mere objects Mr. Potter?" Harry glanced at Mr. Gralin, making sure he looked impatient.

"Only my heir and I can handle the said items without being in great pain. You will know immediately if an impostor is trying to impersonate my heir."

"Very well. Anything else?"

"In the case of my death, all actions I have said must immediately be done. I want my personal items in that vault as quickly as possible, and I know you have your own brand of magic that will make it very possible for such a thing to be done within minutes. You will not approach my heir at all either, until he approaches you. Upon this day, you will have a statement ready for him with full details of everything you know about me, my heritage, and my vaults. I want every little detail. I think you can work it out by yourselves how to set out this detail. I hold particular interest in the items in my vaults, and who is using particular branches of my holdings. As my heir, this person will have all rights and powers I do, and so full and unarguable right to _everything_. If he so chooses to withdraw a branch, he will be allowed. If he chooses to throw everything in the Nile – he will be allowed. Do you understand?"

"Full power to your heir – yes, understood. We have a method of giving such details in a much more ordered fashion than we have on hand – this is simply because of the suddenness of your actions. It will take time to prepare though." Harry nodded.

"Do not expect to hear from my heir until at least a month after such an event as I die. If you are not contacted within a year of my death, please forward the status of my heir on to Remus Lupin as well as this letter. The letter is for none other than the eyes of Remus Lupin, and I will be aware the moment anyone opens it, and the person who does so shall be rendered blind for the rest of their life if that person is not Remus Lupin." He had been very disturbed to place that curse on the letter under the eyes of Salazar and Godric, but understood the need for the secrecy.

"That is acceptable. Anything else Mr. Potter?" Harry thought for a long moment.

"Yes. Everything that has occurred today, and will occur afterwards, concerning me, or my heir, is to be done on the strictest security level. I want no one to know of anything that happens that can possibly avoid knowing. To any enquiries given, or investigations, I have named an overseer of my will, who is working alongside Gringotts. I named this overseer three years previously, during my stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the last two weeks of the summer holidays, understood? That is the only thing I want anyone to know – a leak, if you want. Nothing beyond that." There were nods and more scribbles. Harry swallowed nervously and waited. It took a few minutes, but finally there were murmurs announcing it was done.

"I believe everything is in order Mr. Potter. What else may we do for you?" He frowned ever so slightly for a moment.

"I believe that is all. I wasn't here today, and if by chance I was seen here, and led away from the main room, then it was to ensure that my arrangements made three years ago in correspondence to my will still stood strong, as well as a brief talk on the possibilities of funding a Defence Group at Hogwarts. Oh, and the Right of Merlin was passed three years ago as well, to anyone who asks. I have simply not brought it to light for the past years, and neither shall it be brought to light unless there are a very great many questions about my will, understood?"

"Yes Mr. Potter, we understand. May I suggest then that you use a back exit to Diagon Alley? We normally gain more customers at this time." Harry blinked but slowly nodded.

"Very well. I think that is everything that has to be said."

"Yes, I believe all grounds have been covered. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Your attendant will show you a quiet way out."

* * *

Harry yawned quietly as he emerged from a secret passage his goblin guide had led him too. He was at the far-side of Gringotts, shadowed from the rest of the Alley he was pleased to see. He glanced around once before sinking back into the darkest corner and changing his eyes back to normal and charming his robes a bit more welcoming warm grey. After checking himself over, he made sure that he had his proper wand in his hand, and after casting a little charm banished Salazar's to the Founders Common Room. It was the signal that the plan was about to begin.

He quickly took down the charm that fogged the Ministry senses and moved quickly out to the Alley, knowing that he'd have to get this done as quickly as he could do. The Founders had promised him there'd be a battle of sorts, though he didn't really understand how they were going to make one.

The moment he stepped out into daylight properly, just before Eeylops Owl Emporium, there were squeals, and he was suddenly set upon by two girls. It took a moment for him to register that they were so close to him that he couldn't see anything but blue eyes.

"Harry! I'm Marina !" Harry smiled a bit, taking a step back and glancing at the two in front of him. Apparently they were just out of school, since he hadn't seen them at Hogwarts, and they were definitely older than him. They both looked pleasant, but he couldn't really concentrate at that at the moment.

"Afternoon." Both girls beamed at him.

"What're you doing here? Shopping? Do you have a girlfriend?" Harry blinked a bit. They seemed….very eager.

"Actually I was thinking about getting some lunch, would you care to join me?" They certainly drew enough attention to themselves – they'd be perfect for getting the message across, even if he hated using them like he was going to.

"Oh yes please! My name's Hillary Harry, we were privately tutored but we really wanted to go to Hogwarts! It sounds like you have so much fun there!" Harry grinned a bit to himself. Yes…fun.

"It's great. You can make some really good friends there." Marina looked at him hopefully.

"No girlfriends?" He blushed a bit.

"Well, the girls are all great, but no, I don't have a girlfriend at the moment." He didn't really like that shine that suddenly came to her eye.

"Oh I'm sure that won't last long," Hillary supplied slyly. "Someone like you is bound to get latched onto very quickly." No kidding. Marina flushed and gave her friend…or was it sister, a glare. Harry glanced between the two and decided they could definitely be sisters; made sense if they both got private tutoring which was very rare.

"I'm not really all that fussed." He shrugged. "My friends are there for me, and there's a little problem to take care of first before I can think about girlfriends." Both of their eyes went wide.

"You-Know-Who!" They whispered as if they'd only just realized he was actually a real person. "Is he really back?" Harry scowled ever so slightly.

"Unfortunately."

"Did you really fight him at the Ministry?" Harry glanced around out of the corner of his eyes. Good, they were attracting a crowd.

"The Ministry? Yeah, he was there. So were a good number of his Death Eaters too." Whispers broke out around them, but Harry pretended he didn't notice. Instead, he slowly began walking towards the Ice Cream Parlour, making sure the girls knew to follow.

"Oh you're _so_ brave! I wouldn't dare face _him_." Harry glanced at Marina seriously for a moment before kicking a stone out of his path.

"I face him, but I rarely do it without my friends. If I didn't have my friends I'd be dead a hundred times over. At the Ministry they were the ones that duelled the Death Eaters and nearly won. People don't give teamwork enough credit." That obviously put them off for a moment.

"But they didn't duel You-Know-Who, did they?" Harry flushed a bit.

"No, but without them I wouldn't have made it past the Death Eaters to duel with Voldemort." He ignored the flinches. "It's together that we're strong, not alone. I know if they're behind me, there's pretty much nothing that's impossible for us to beat. If I face it head on alone…well, no one can do everything by themselves." There were soft murmurs around the Alley. Harry smiled softly to himself, noticing a reporter to his left scribbling quickly. Perfect.

"Can't you?" He laughed quietly.

"No, I'm not even sixteen yet. I'm hardly anywhere near as powerful as Voldemort or Dumbledore. The only power I has comes from the support of the people around me. Think about it – four witches and wizards built the greatest magical school in Britain, and the stronghold of the Light – my friends and I have prevented the stealing of the Philosopher's Stone and fought Death Eaters to a duel – imagine what the wizarding community could do if they joined together! Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance if a hundred witches and wizards raised their wands against him – he'd flee like the coward he is. You all have the power to defeat him and any other evil that comes forward; you just need to see that that power lies in friendship and unity." Even as Harry said the words, he felt a cold despair beginning to fill him, and slowed to a stop, feeling his eyes widen. They hadn't…oh god.

"Girls, get back to the Leaky Cauldron right now."

"What?" Harry slowly drew he wand, swallowing. This wasn't good. He couldn't believe the Founders would send…

"Dementors – get back to the Leaky Cauldron!" He yelled the last part out when he saw the numbers surging forwards up the street. He knew that it was unlikely even an eighth of the people in the street would be able to cast Patronus's.

He heard screams erupt around him, and in his head, and began summoning the ones closest the Dementors. He heard a few shaky people doing the same, but most were screaming and turning heel. He could hear his mothers pleas growing louder and louder, and knew that the Dementors were getting closer.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_ He felt the magic flow out of him as Prongs erupted into view, and charged down the Alley to tackle the nearest Dementors. He didn't hear any shouts following his, and realized horribly that not one person that had stayed knew the charm.

"Get everyone in the Cauldron! Don't waste your lives for nothing!" It took a few more screams from him, and the Dementors gaining more ground for people to actually start moving. Harry waited until they were a good few metres away before drawing himself up, forcing his mothers screams from his head.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_ A second stag erupted from his wand, throwing back the nearest Dementors to his very great relief, but he knew his relief would be short lived. He was growing more and more tired, and knew that two Patronus's were draining him violently. He began to slowly back away, weakly banishing things at the Dementors; hoping for something to give his Patronus's a break. The stags were racing as fast as they could, but they were becoming more and more subdued in the black mass that was appearing. Where were the bloody Aurors?

His foot suddenly hit an uneven paving stone, and he toppled backwards. There was a hiss, and suddenly the Dementors were racing forwards towards him.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_ He screamed at the top of his lungs, forcing himself to focus beyond focus on his friends. All he saw before he blacked out was his vision filling with pure white.

**A/N:** For regular story updates and notifications, please join my Yahoo Group which can be found on my profile  
  
[#]Beta needed[#]


End file.
